This Could Be Something
by eomerking19
Summary: She had fled the castle in a desperate whirl of anger, determined that her brother's wrongs should be put right. But it's taken time. Almost six months have passed since the slaughter at the protest and Walter has brought her Mourningwood in the hopes of gaining more allies for their revolution. But sometimes friendship comes hand in hand with something...else.
1. Chapter 1

Hello out there! And other pleasantries. Um, right. This idea came to me when I was on the xbox and should have been revising, so I wrote it up when I should have been revising too. It's my first try, so _please _don't slaughter me?

-eomerking19

* * *

The sunlight assaulted her eyes as she left the damp greyness of the cave. Archon was at her heels and still growling, his hackles raised. The volume doubled as his paw sunk into the soft mud. No, her current surroundings weren't much better, she mused as she took stock of them.

They – herself, Walter and her dog - were in the middle of some sort of forest. The ground was marshy and it made a disturbing squelching noise every time she moved her foot. And if she didn't pull it out right, it twisted her ankle – making it throb even more. Something that would thankfully leave soon, thanks to her Hero blood. But apart from her and Walter's squelches and Archon's soft pant-growls she couldn't hear anything. Nothing at all. And that worried her, she'd learnt better than to trust quiet.

Walter, however, didn't seem to mind, and was humming to himself as walked, smiling and throwing his head back to feel the sunshine and generally looking simple.

She snorted in amusement, but then looked more carefully at him, attempting to asses the damage he'd taken during their 'Hobbe-bashing'. Which was what he'd screamed whilst having so _much _fun!

He had a small cut on his forehead, there were tears littered about his clothes, dried blood on the flapping material, but overall he looked fine and, if she were to believe the stories he had told her throughout her childhood, he'd had a lot worse. Archon was fine too, just a few scratches under his once shiny coat. He yelped as one of his paws yet again got stolen from him by the mud. His hair was almost as disgusting as hers.

Walter turned his head and caught her staring, his eyes twinkling. Seriously, they were _twinkling_. He grinned as he gestured to their surroundings, taking in great, gulping breaths. She tried not to wrinkle her nose.

"Ah, you can almost _smell _the sunlight! Isn't it wonderful? The damp, muggy, soggy sunlight." His exuberance faltered for only a second as he took in the faults of the swamp like area they were traversing. In fact, scratch the 'like', this was a swamp, her boots could even tell you.

"It's fine, if you like breathing in… I don't even know. What _is _this, Walter?"

He laughed at her disgusted face and bumped her shoulder with his own playfully.

"This, Rose, is Mourningwood." He spread his arms, as if to show her what to take in.

"I just hope the people we're looking for are still alive." He said with a smile, not even blinking.

She blanched. And here she was hoping for a nice relaxing time, meeting Walter's friends and trading niceties.

"Still alive?" She replied. "Oh, _joy_. Let us walk on to another dark and dank place, most likely after walking over certain death, going under certain death and just skipping past – wait for it – certain death! Never _mind _the caverns and crevices full of hordes of vicious nasties that would like nothing more than to eat us and are waiting for us to come to them. Great. _Fabulous. _We should have brought some sauce so they could have enjoyed us even more. Salt even, they probably don't get much salt in remote death traps nowadays." She trailed off, muttering angrily to herself as Walter looked on in bemusement.

After a while he chuckled, and bumped into her shoulder again. "It really is scary how much like your father you are. Two of the most sarcastic sods I'll most likely ever meet." She glared down at her feet at that. "There isn't a chance they could've just died of old age, is there Walter? I mean, if they're your friends…" She grinned at him

He snorted, and swung at her, making her duck. "Cheeky bugger."

"For one, I'm not _that _old. And two, we could fight off _anything_ that ever came our way, Rose. Just look, we made a good team back in that cave, didn't we?" He paused. "It's been a while since I got stuck into a real fight." She grinned happily, basking in his praise, even Archon seemed to cheer up. That dog was almost too human. But Walter was off thinking.

"It was just like fighting by your father's side." He added, "I'd forgotten what it feels like, to fight next to a hero."

She blushed horrifically. She tried to speak, to get the attention away from herself.

"It's not like I was _that _good at it, though it was fun… It could be classed as stress relief; beating the living daylights out of Hobbes. Just smacking them and watching them fly. Especially the magic ones, those things just need to _stop_." Her tone grew rather hard as she spoke, and Walter stroked his beard thoughtfully. It had grown a lot longer, she noted, in the months they'd been away from the castle. Her blush lessened as the attention drew from her.

"You almost sound like you hate the creatures." He laughed. "Not that I blame you, of course, but still…" He carried on pondering for a few moments before holding his hand up in realisation.

"…You're just annoyed because you got bitten in that cave. Aren't you?"

She huffed and kicked a rock that stupidly placed itself in her path, wincing at the twinge in her ankle – which just infuriated her further.

"Maybe I am, or it could just be the fact that they are _viscous _creatures that steal children and lurk in caves we need to pass through."

Walter quirked an eyebrow, clearly disbelieving.

"Fine, so I am, but the bloody thing wouldn't let go! I smacked it 'round the head about twenty times and the little sod still held on! It was worse than bloody _Saker_! Not even the blunt end of a rifle threw the bugger off, it took it's head being _ripped off _by Archon!"

She flung her arms up, exasperated, and carried on ranting for a few moments – each sentence more vicious and cuss filled - until she heard a series of odd noises behind her. Rose turned to look at Walter to see him bent double, his body shaking as he didn't even try to stifle his laughter, Archon by his side looking worriedly at him. She crossed her arms and waited for him to finish.

Finally he straightened, took a few deep breaths and then jogged towards her, a grin twitching his lips as she crossed her arms and looked pointedly away.

"I didn't know you knew words like that, Rose. I should be disappointed." Said Walter, not serious at all, "And I should probably find out just who taught you them." He added as an afterthought.

She sniffed and looked away. His roaring laugh filled the air again and she laughed along with him – it was infectious.

After their bout of hysteria they walked in silence for a bit, her trying to absorb as much of their surroundings as she possibly could.

"Who _are _we looking for, Walter? And why is this place so dangerous? Because it really doesn't look it." She asked after a while, rubbing her collie's ears, pulling a face at the clump of mud that attached itself to her hand.

"Some old friends," He shrugged, "They should be willing to help you, and their aid will be very much welcome."

"Why, are they soldiers?" She raised an eyebrow as he nodded. "I thought soldiers were the enemy at the moment."

"They're loyal to the crown alright, as long as the one sitting in it isn't a complete and utter-" Both of her eyebrows shot up as she heard Walter's choice words for her brother. She feigned shock.

"Walter! To say such things in front of a _lady_."

The corners of his mouth twitched up as Walter turned to look at her, his face imperceptibly blank, brushing off her last words.

"Shut up, you just proved that you know words far worse." She shrugged. "And to answer your previous question – I don't know about dangerous, but I'm getting a rash. Bloody swamp."

She looked at him as if he'd gone mad as he shoved his hands in his pockets and carried on whistling a jaunty little tune to himself.

"Walter?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"Too much. Just, too much."

He just laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

It took them hours to reach where Walter wanted them to be. About four, by her count. She had been bitten Avo knows how many times by midges and Archon had managed to wind himself around her feet and trip her up. Twice.

"That must be the place up ahead. What I wouldn't give for a bowl of soup and a hot bath."

She nodded in agreement before realising what he had said.

"'It must be'? What, you've never _actually_ been here before?"

He shrugged, "I'd read the mission brief."

"Oh, that's good. I feel _so _much better."

But that's when a building came into sight, and she quickly shut up. A giant, dilapidated fort, covered in moss and ivy, the walls slumping and bricks littering the forest floor. Above it all the Albion flag hung limply, looking forlorn amongst the destruction. Not exactly a sight to fill one with hope. She looked to Walter for reassurance, but his eyes were straight ahead of them, running over the forts crumbling entrance.

On a parapet above the rusted gate, a young man stood guard. He looked tired and drawn, his uniform almost falling off of him, but his eyes were scanning the forest restlessly.

When he saw her and Walter he snapped to attention, pointing his gun at them and shouting nervously;

"Cease your movement! Be you men, or be you Hollow men?"

Hollow men, she mused. She'd heard that before. Maybe in a tale in the dweller camp? Or was it a threat in Saker's camp? Meh, she'd remember eventually.

Walter snorted and waved his and ploughed on ahead, shouting at the man, mindless of the flintlock pointed at his head.

"Have you gone daft, boy?" He shouted. "Open up the doors!"

The boy peered over the edge of his perch.

"_Walter_? I-is that you?"

"The very same. Now, are you going to let us in or what?" Walter could be rather difficult when he was grumpy. He had more midge bites than her, and that rash he wouldn't shut up about.

The man-boy nodded furiously.

"R-right. Yes. Of course." He twisted his body and hollered out behind him.

"Open the gate! And tell Major Swift: Walter's here!"

The gates swung open with a loud creak, and a bang as they slammed against the walls. Walter looked rather bemused as he waltzed through the arch, Archon trotting happily at his heels. She just tried not to trip over from exhaustion and make a giant fool of herself.

There was a chorus of 'hello' and 'Walter!' as they entered the fort. She even heard a few 'Oh thank the Light!' and even 'I'm dead, aren't I? Logan wouldn't send _us _backup. I'm clearly dreaming.' They looked at Walter like he was a savior, but eyed her suspiciously – though she couldn't be sure that was all they were eyeing her for.

Not that she looked like a Rebel Princess. She looked down, assessing the state of her clothes. Her mercenary pants were mostly fine, the dark material not showing the dirt, and the collection of rips and holes from Hobbe teeth were nothing that she couldn't fix herself. Her shirt though, was a state. The once pristine, elegant stitching had unravelled in some parts leaving the pattern with gaps. The green, meticulously dyed by Jasper, had dulled and lost its vibrancy – she hadn't even washed it! Though maybe that wasn't a good point. It was all those bloody trips through sewers and underground lakes that did it, honest. The tough brown leather of her corset had stood the wear of a few months roughing it in the great Albion countryside and through numerous fights and battles, however.

Her boots were the most passable thing about the whole ensemble; soft, supple leather, her last present from Logan, actually. The only fault being the inch thick encrustation of mud surrounding her foot.

She sighed to herself, her face probably wasn't much better either. She knew she was pale despite ages spent in the sun, and that the circles under her eyes probably made her look like she'd been punched. But that was life on the run for you.

Her fingers itched to trace the thin white line across her right cheek, a parting gift from Saker. That she didn't mind; it was neat and a clean swoop, tracing just under her cheekbone. Walter told her that it gave her face character.

She tucked a dark strand – her hair was _not _that brown, dammit - of hair behind her ear, trying not to grimace at the state of it, the usually wild black curls now hung limply down her back, she didn't even want to _think _about how much stuff currently inhabited her hair. Not that she usually wore it down – that'd just be impractical - but her last hair tie had been destroyed by a wayward branch whilst racing through MistpeakValley and she hadn't since had a chance to by one. She had tried to use a twig to stab it in a bun but had failed miserably.

Her eyes cast a quick glance over the interior of the fort.

It was just as broken as the outside, but there were little personal touches here and there; a soldier doubling as a blacksmith smiling through a layer of grime over his work, a young flaxen haired chap flouncing about strumming a lute, just small things like how in a corner two soldiers peered at her over the top of cards and rations. For the placement of the fort and the dreariness outside of it, the men inside looked alive, upbeat despite their tired demeanours. Her dog immediately took of towards the gamblers, nesting under their table hoping to catch any fallen food. She snorted at his behaviour, like hell they were going to drop any with that beast about.

She hurried after Walter as he strode towards a man near the centre of the fort. He was a bit younger than Walter, as far as she could see; dressed in the garb of a high ranking soldier (She'd never paid much attention to rank and such when her tutor tried to teach her, she always left that sort of stuff to her brother). He had thick black hair – but with a bright stripe of white – swept over to the side, and quite possibly the best moustache she'd ever seen in her life. He smiled at her around his pipe that he was puffing away on quite merrily, and waited for them to reach him.

Walter swept his arms out, "Ah, there he is; the one and only Major Swift!" The man, Swift, grinned and held his arm out. They clasped forearms in a manly, soldier-ish way.

"Walter!" His voice was rough and gravely – from the pipe, she supposed, "What the blazes are you doing here?" He then seemed to notice Rose standing there, "And who have you managed to con into coming with you?"

She grinned at him as her mentor harrumphed and took his offered hand.

"Rose, sir. Just Rose."

"Well, Just Rose, It's a pleasure to meet you." Swift twinkled at her; another bloody twinkler. Why was it that nearly all old men seemed to be able to _twinkle_? She'd have to learn how they did it one day. She took note of the joke, too, dire as it was.

Walter then butted in, his grin widening. "We came looking for _you._" Walter replied, "I have a proposition."

Just then another soldier joined their circle. Taller than her – which was an achievement, to be sure - with wild, blonde hair that fell into his eyes. He was tanned too, unusual for a person in Albion, but it seemed right on his handsome face – did she just say handsome? She did, didn't she – The tallness was odd too, maybe he was a good shot?

He waltzed closer with a crooked grin plastered across his face, and she could already see that Walter was trying not to roll his eyes.

"You came all this way to proposition us?" He sounded rather put off, though his smile stayed in place, "And I thought you were here to save us from the legions of the damned." Oo, Sarcasm. She rather liked it. The 'legions of the damned' bit didn't sound too promising though.

Walter let out a soft chuckle. "Ben Finn! It's good to see you."

The blonde man, Ben Finn, laughed and shook his hand. He then glanced at her in the same way Swift did. His brow raised.

"Isn't she a little young for you, Wally?" He asked, waggling his eyebrows. She snorted, clapping a hand over her face to try and stifle the laughter. Walter spluttered looking indignant as she calmed herself and stuck out her hand.

"I'm Rose." She said, grinning.

He took her hand and turned it, raising it to his mouth and placing a kiss on her knuckles. "Captain Benjamin Finn, Lady." He waggled his eyebrows again, she was ashamed to say she found it rather endearing. Walter made a sort of growling noise and she pulled her hand away, still grinning.

"That's enough, Ben. Don't be getting any ideas."

"Oh, so she _is _yours, Wally! You could've said." He laughed as he ducked under a swing for one of Walter's massive fist. That set her off laughing again, until Walter sent a stern glare in her direction.

"Shut _up_, Ben. And you, Rose."

She feigned hurt. "It seems we've been dumped together already, Captain." He nodded seriously, "Indeed. I can usually go a little longer without being told off than that." She was about to reply when Swift broke in, "Enough, you two. We have enough to worry about without you two acting like idiots."

She grew rather sombre as Walter's face took upon a deeper frown. "I take it the legends about this place are true then?"

Swift smiled bitterly and Ben Finn nodded, "I'll say! You've never seen so many Hollow men in one place."

She let out a whoosh of air at the mention of the skeletal monsters; finally remember just _where _she'd heard of them, and just how many she'd had to fight. She shrugged as Walter looked at her questioningly.

"Hollow men." She stated, "By that do you mean the scantily clad bones that shuffle and groan and get rather offended when you shoot them and super mad when you set them on fire?" Swift nodded slowly, and Finn looked at her though she'd a few screws loose. Even Walter looked rather surprised.

"Rose, _how_…?" He began but she cut him off with grim smile.

"The Reliquary, when Sabine sent me. They were guarding the music box – they got rather off handed when they realised I was there to take it. Never mind the fact that it's technically _mine_, but whatever." She waved her hand.

Walter looked oddly proud – his chest was puffed out in that 'look what I helped do' way – Ben gobsmacked and Swift, the only well bred gentleman present – she assumed – simply looked politely surprised.

"Well, I'll be damned; Hollow Men in Brightwall." Walter let out a low whistle.

Swift coughed into his hand, "Ah, well, ahem." She smirked, it wasn't _that _unusual for a woman to go against hordes of the dead and come out unscathed. Oh, wait…

"We've been stationed here for weeks," Swift said, getting the conversation back on track, "trying to eradicate them."

He laughed bitterly, "Mainly it's _us _getting eradicated." He let them both through the fort, to a site with three freshly dug graves. She winced when she saw them. Ben Finn looked at her oddly, but as she opened her mouth to speak to him, Swift carried on.

"We lost some good men last night, including Lieutenant Simmons here." He gestured to the middle of the three, with a hat resting atop it. "And the buggers'll be back tonight." He bit off with venom. She looked towards Walter worriedly, but he was looking ahead at Swift.

Walter sighed, and cast a sad glance at the graves. "Logan just _loves _to send you on the best assignments, doesn't he?" She cringed at the mention of her brother's name; she could deal with it alone, but not in company. Ben Finn sent another weird look her way. "That's part of what I want to talk to you about." Walter carried on.

Apparently Swift had seen the cringe and whirled around to face her, his pipe in her face.

"Is this…?" He said unsure, and Rose almost groaned at what was coming next.

Her mentor's face stayed grave as he nodded. "The Princess? Yes. I'll explain. But just treat her like any other pair of hands for now."

Swift nodded. "Fair enough. Captain Finn will show you to the mortar – we could use another body up there. Be up there as soon as the sun sets." Finn nodded dumbly, then realised what had been said and got over it quickly.

"Yeah," He said with a sly grin, "That's when the fun starts!" There's that sarcasm again.

"I'll introduce you to Private Jammy too – so called because he's the luckiest sod on the force." That should be interesting, though she wasn't sure what kind of lucky this Jammy bloke was.

Walter placed one of his massive paws on her shoulder, "You'll probably be stuck on that mortar all night. Take a look around first, talk to the men. It never hurts to see who's got your back. You've a few hours to kill."

Rose nodded at him, smiling reassuringly. Then she followed Ben Finn and left the two old soldiers to their talk.

* * *

Chapter two! haha! It felt like this one took ages to pull out. I'll throw up another one eventually, I guess. But until then, ta-ra.


	3. Chapter 3

Why is that this gets harder each chapter? For such an aggressive plot bunny it was rather quick to leave when I actually got to work. So yeah, thank you very much for the reviews that I received, it actually made me _blush_ that people took the time. Hows that for sad?

I thought I'd explain my reasoning for Rose's name. My Sparrow in FII was a soft hearted goo-ball, and I thought that naming his daughter after his beloved sister was probably something he'd do (And I couldn't think of anything else *cough*) Black is her surname, as although Sparrow was nice, he was proud, and from going from nameless pauper to king of Albion he decided he needed a name to match, so he chose Black. And Archon is just the name Rose gave her puppy whilst playing, acting out stories of old Albion.

Anyone feel more informed? Cool.

Should I disclaim now? Even though this is _fanfiction_, and the give away should be there.

**I do not, nor will I ever, own the Fable series. Much to my displeasure. That honour goes to Lionhead studios.**

Jesus that's a big note.

* * *

Ben had walked off a bit, and was waiting for her to catch up. She whistled for her dog and he bounded after her, barking happily.

He grinned at her, and she was on guard immediately – he had one of those smiles, the kind that made you look twice at your shoe before you put it on.

"So, _Princess_." He drawled, making her cheeks tinge a bit.

"Captain." She said shortly, "I know there are probably loads of things you want to ask, I have some too. But I'm thinking you have some sort of lunch system here, yes?" He nodded, bemused, "Good. 'Cos I'm starving. We'll talk then, kay'? Oh, wait. Maybe after a bath…" she trailed off hopefully.

"Sure thing, Princess. You can meet the boys then, too. They'll be eager – it's been a while since a female last graced their presence." He finished with a smirk.

She pulled a face, "You make it sound dirty. Stop it."

She rather enjoyed her bath and a bit of lunch, which was really just some dried strips of meat and a pint of mead, bizarrely refreshing, her bath being a tub of cold water – rather mortifyingly, the tub was just wedged in a turret of the old fort, with only a screen separating her from anyone else. The cold she'd fixed with a quick flare of her will, setting the level to steaming. But she'd been told before hand that usually baths were taken in a small lake a few minutes from the fort, and that the tub was only full because it rained last night. That could prove a problem.

Captain Finn had made a show of standing just outside of it, calling 'Away with you, a lady is _washing _here!' if anyone even approached her bath. He was just luck Walter didn't hear him, that could've been nasty.

She was grateful for it though, finally feeling clean and full. And look, her hair was back to its normal, shiny black. Or at least it would be when it dried, she wouldn't use her will now, that'd be pointless – it was perfectly warm out. Finn had given her a funny look when she'd ask for string though, even after she explained it was for her hair. She liked talking to the men too, they had some interesting stories to share – the lewd comments had stopped soon after Ben Finn had called her Princess in front of him. She hissed at him to shut up, but he just laughed at her.

The men obviously hadn't coined onto the fact that she was an actual princess, they just saw Ben's nickname as a state of possession. Obviously they were used to Finn laying claim to every skirt they came across, the swine. And she'd smacked him on the shoulder, but – oh God, was she _blushing_?

That Ben Finn. In the few short hours that she'd known him, well, she didn't know _what _to think of him. He was charming, in a rough sort of way, ridiculously handsome – a trait he had no problem pointing out – and, he was nice.

When see first saw him, she knew immediately that they'd be friends, after a few hours she'd gotten over the shit-eating grin and ridiculously flirting.

It was odd though, back at the castle the only males she really associated with were refined and polite – barring Walter, obviously – but even the guards had behaved when she was near. And even when she made it to Bowerstone proper it was made glaringly obvious how elevated her status was. Maybe not when she snuck out, but she was a child then, and they're treated differently in society.

But suddenly she was in the presence of a loud and raucous man, who was nearly as rude as his men when it came to innuendoes. Of course, she gave as good as she got, and over her lunch and time her had entered a few quite heated verbal fights with the Captain which left the soldiers rolling where they sat.

He was fun and witty, and she supposed that he was the kind of friend she needed right now.

Now the sun was setting and the men seemed to grow ever more tense as every second ticked by. Climbing up to the parapet and to the mortar, the Captain turned to face her, his face alight with intrigue.

"You really hate being called princess, don't you?" He asked, making her shrug.

"I don't _hate _it, it defined my life for eighteen years, and unless Logan's had me completely written off, it still belongs to me. It reminds me of the castle, and what the title stands for is all. A child's title, really. To do what she's told, look pretty and to not question her brother. Certainly not to fight." She snorted, taking on a mock noble voice, "She looks to a future with a nobleman and a comfortable way of life. She would _never _leave the castle to rally an army against the King." She laughed, meeting his gaze. "I don't _feel_ like her, not anymore. It's too long ago." She looked away, thoughtful.

"What a weird turn my life has taken." She looked back at him, "Imagine if my father saw me now. Living in the same building as twenty men. He'd have an aneurysm."

He matched her grin easily. "Let's not forget about the hundreds of dead men waiting to get inside, too."

Then he sighed dramatically, raising a hand to his forehead. "That just means I'll have to think of something else to call you, won't I? And here Princess was just _so_ easy."

She shook her head in disbelief, a smile creeping back onto her lips. She was thankful, though, at how easily he dropped her title.

"You could always try 'Rose', Captain." She suggested.

"Pfft, while you get to call me Captain? No chance, Toots."

"But you are a Captain!" She cried, but he was far away, thinking.

"Toots." He mused. "Tooooots. Toots? Toots!" He grinned triumphantly, and she really didn't know what to say. He sounded like he'd jumped off the deep end. She took a step back, making his grin widen.

"Whadya think, Toots?" Again with the eyebrow waggling.

"Oh you are _not _serious?" He nodded.

"I think you're an idiot." She grumbled as she brushed past him, making her way up to the mortar, where a man who looked like he'd gone 10 rounds with a troll stood. Well, slouched, one of his legs looked pretty banged up.

"I'm hurt, Toots!" Came a cry form behind her, "And just when we were getting on so well…"

The maimed man looked confused as they approached, only hearing the tail-end of their scintillating conversation.

"Captain?" He asked, warily.

The blonde slapped a grin on his face, and slung his arm over the wobbling soldier.

"Toots, this is Jammy!"

'Jammy' for one still looked rather concerned and sniffed, a disgusting noise that made her cringe slightly. Finn laughed, and the soldier didn't look offended at all, he just smiled slightly. Rose was alarmed to see how close the man was to the mortar, due to the fact that he had a bloody bandage over one eye and the other was squinting at her. Not a sight to fill her with hope.

Finn obviously saw the dubious look on her face, as his grin grew even wider as he gestured to the ground to the below the parapet before them.

"Right, well, I don't suppose you've ever used a mortar before." He began, letting go of the wobbling soldier and coming to stand next to her. "There's nothing to it, honestly."

She cast a glance over the third person with them, and Finn laughed. She didn't mention that she had some experience, of sorts. Let them be pleasantly surprised.

"There's always a slight chance of maiming, of course, but, erm, I'm sure you'll pick it up." Oh how reassuring. She wasn't sure how far her Hero blood went, but she didn't think it covered re-growing limbs.

"First, I'd like you to meet private Jammy, He'll be your loader." The soldier saluted her,

"Pleasure to meet you, Princess. S'true what they say 'bout me y'know; Jammiest soldier in the whole of Albion! Seven hundred and twenty-four wounds and still standing." He punched the air and smiled goofily, revealing a grin with quite a few gaps. She smiled back, the man was endearing really, in a disgusting way.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to him. After a while he's hardly revolting at all." Jammy nodded his assent. "Right Jammy! It's time to show her the ropes."

"Yes, sir!" He shouted, and Finn stepped back to – what she assumed was – a safe distance, chuckling all the while. "Right then, my life's gonna be in your hands, so best make sure you know what you're doing, okay? Go on, grab the mortar and we'll take a few practice shots."

Rose stepped up to the beast and grabbed the cold metal handles. She made to move it, grunting at its weight, but was stopped by a shout from behind her.

"Hang on a minute, Toots." She turned back to look at Finn, who was looking over her stance at the mortar. She ground her teeth slightly when his gaze lingered on her rear, "Captain!"

"Mm?" He looked up at her, a smirk on his face.

"What do you _want_?" The smirk left and he crouch down behind her, and she started slightly at the feel of his hands on his legs. "What are you-?"

"You can't fire like that, you'll tire too quickly, and you'll strain your back." He explained, cutting her off. He began pushing her legs further apart, then he poked the back of her knees, and she bent them reflexively. She heard him straighten behind her.

"Now you won't work your legs to hard, but you'll still bugger your back." He placed his hands on either side of her waist.

"Settle into the position more, relax." She was trying, honestly, but his hands on her weren't helping. His hands moved upwards on her sides, pulling her body lower and further back, until her back connected with his front. He had a nice chest, which she _needed _to stop think about. Now. He stepped back, eyes assessing her stance.

"Whaddya think, Jam?" He asked the man beside them, who was smirking slightly at his Captain, whose lips twitched in return.

"S'close enough Captain, she'll learn it right after a bit." Finn patted her on the shoulder and retreated again.

She kept her mouth shut.

Jammy stepped up nest to her, "Let's see what you've got. See that scarecrow over there?" He pointed to a little wooden figure in the distance. "Blow it up!"

She struggled to manoeuvre the heavy machine into position, and looked to Jammy when she had.

"Yeah, that's right," He nodded, "Now blow it to buggery!" She snorted as he said that, and at his enthusiasm for destroying things. He loaded the mortar, and lit it, and she clung on for dear life as it went off.

The recoil was immense, and she stumbled backwards, flying into Finn. He peered over her shoulder, "Not bad for a first shot."

She shrugged, shaking him off, "There was one, not as big as this, on the castle wall when I was a child. I used to fire lemons at the nobles. It was removed eventually." She heard an astonished laugh behind her, and she settled back into her position at the mortar.

Jammy was leaning over the parapet, "Yes! Yes!_ Boom_!" He cackled, "You see that? You see it? That scarecrows a goner." He turned to her with a grin, his bandage sliding over his face. He pointed to another place on the field.

"Right, onto the next one." She did the same again, this time with a bit more ease. The recoil was easier to handle this time too.

"Boosh!" Jammy laughed as the scarecrow was blown into pieces, "Goodbye mister scarecrow! That was bloody brilliant!" She smiled at the praise.

"Alright Jammy," Finn interjected, "Don't get too excited. You know what happens when you do. Let's just take care of the last one." Jammy nodded, squinting at the field, his eye finding the target.

"Yeah, just one left." He frowned, "Hang on, I don't remember setting this one up."

She jumped as the scarecrow pulled itself off its frame, its eyes sockets flaring blue. Finn behind her swore, "They're here! Start firing!"

* * *

And that's my attempt at a cliffhanger! I'm curious, do I need to change the rating to 'T' for the swearing? Because Rose has a potty mouth, not that you can quite see it here, but it's going to get worse.

Thanks for reading!

R&R for a blush?


	4. Chapter 4

It was a long night, she didn't know she could fight this fiercely for so long, but she did so out of necessity. She stayed mostly next to Captain Finn, who seemed to delight in blasting the skeletons to pieces. Soon their rifles started to move in sync, and they ended up back to back, tearing into the oncoming horde. That was when her gun jammed. She swore, throwing it to the floor, and concentrated on the screaming mass before her. She flung her arms forward, and a glaring ball of fire ripped through the monsters, their dry bones and rags flaring up instantly. In only a few seconds what had once been a surging crowd of un-dead was reduced to a pile of ashes.

"Bloody hell, Toots! Why didn't you do that earlier?" She flashed Finn a rueful grin, but more of the monsters were bearing down upon them.

"Keep doing that!" She heard Walter yell from across the fort. Letting lose a cry, she threw herself into the oncoming Hollow Men. Rose could hear Finn swear behind her, and shout something about her lack of brains, but she concentrated only on the Will coursing through her. Tens of them crumbled at her feet, but every single one was replaced. She snarled and crouched, placing her hands flat down on the floor. She didn't know why she did it, it was a feeling she had gotten, that she just _should_. She let loose a wave of her Will, more than usual, and it flared out in all directions. Red hot tongues of flame ate away at any Hollow Man in its path, but as soon as it neared a soldier it dimmed and died. The crescendo lasted only a second, but she saw it as if in slow motion, felt every wisp the fire released, every bone that was cremated at its touch.

That too lasted only a second, and the swarming monsters were replaced even quicker. By now the moon was at its peak in the sky, meaning both that the Hollow Men were at their full power, but also that this fight was halfway through. Her spirit bolstered, she straightened and threw herself back into the fight.

It was like the stories her Father used to tell her, about when he used his Will in battles, and how it took over him. Like a trance, he used to say, it was all he could see, or think of, or feel. She could understand it now, unlike when she was younger, she could feel it running through her, not just when it flew from her hands. It was an amazing feeling.

That was how her first night went, battling the Hollow Legion with the Swift Brigade, she didn't stop until the sun rose above the parapets and the remaining corpses crumbled to dust.

Panting, she lowered her hands. The battle had been intense, and so much harder than what she was used to. Bullets had grazed her in many places and she'd been knocked to the floor by a well placed swing, but she was mostly uninjured. She didn't know about anyone else.

"Well done, Rose." Walter said as he walked over to her. She nodded mutely, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"M'tired, Walter." She lent back on her mentor, who wrapped a protective arm over her shoulder.

"Go to sleep then, its safe now." He reassured her, laughing softly. Rose could feel his chest vibrate when he did that, and it took her back to her childhood, after her father died, of falling asleep on Sir Walter. She nodded again, and then succumbed to sleep.

When she woke the sun directly above her in the sky, blinding her as she opened her eyes to it. She was a mat too, for it was a damn bit comfier than the last few places she had slept. The last few places being various spots in Mistpeak and a short powernap in the hobbe cave. She threw an arm over her eyes and moaned; her whole body _ached_. She heard a soft chuckle beside her, and she sat up, startled, reaching for where her rifle usually sat on her back.

"Whoa, Toots, calm it." Finn had his hands held out in a placating manner, and she lessened the snarl on her face.

"Why are you so close, Finn?" Her voice was gravelly from sleep, and the ache persisted in her muscles.

"Wally told me too; you haven't had much sleep lately, and you're gonna need it if you're gon' do that again tonight." He said simply, swinging the chair he was sat on back onto two legs. She hated the thought of another night of fighting those monsters, but she had the option to leave, the men here didn't, not unless they want to be labelled deserters.

She slumped back onto the mat, before a thought struck her; whose _was _it? She winced at the thought of any man going with out a bed, and the realised she didn't know how many of them had survived last night.

"Finn," Rose called, catching the blonde's attention, "How many men-?"

"Died?" He ran his fingers through his hair, and grinned. "None, Toots. That's the fiercest I've ever seen the boys fight. That was you, I think." She looked at him incomprehensively – to her knowledge they thought she was just a tag along of Walter's.

"Be proud, Toots, you've given them something to fight for; an uncorrupted monarchy, one that _cares_."

"When did they find out?" She asked, chewing on her lip. The Captain smirked. "Last nights, after you fainted. Walter made a big speech of it, actually. Quite inspiring."

Rose snorted; that was _so _Walter.

She smiled up at him, and he stood up and offered her his hand.

"Whose mat am I on, Finn?" Rose asked as he pulled her up.

"Oh, that's mine. Swifty thought it a good idea to give you the best one, and I pilfered that from a travelling snob a few years ago." He snickered, but she was aghast.

"Finn!"

"He kicked a kid, he deserved it."

Rose chewed on her lip again. "Where did you sleep then, Finn?" The captain looked back at her and shrugged, smiling.

"Ah, y'know. I'm not unused to roughing it, Toots."

She was still frowning as he started to lead her towards where food was being served.

"Hang on, I did not _faint_!" Rose shouted at his back, bringing her hands up to her waist.

The blonde whirled around, a mischievous grin on his handsome face.

"Oh really? I, for one, thought you'd gone and died on us." He replied, the grin turning distinctly 'shit-eating'.

"No, I'd just fallen asleep. Us Blacks are a lot harder to kill that _that_." She told him, making him laugh slightly.

She could see now how calm the atmosphere was, like how it was before nightfall yesterday. Men were laughing and joking, but it seemed somehow brighter than yesterday, more hopeful, somehow. But she didn't truly believe what Finn said about it being her doing. Rose whistled for Archon who came running over with a stick wedged in his mouth.

"A right nuisance, that dog is," She heard Finn say next to her "Avo knows where he got that stick from - it still has bloody _leaves _on it." The captain grumbled, seemingly to himself. She chose to ignore how he slandered her dog, looking over the fort for her mentor. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Where's Walter, Finn?" the Captain shrugged.

"With Swifty, m'guessin'. Talking 'bout battle plans and the like." He'd strode ahead and came back with a wooden plate laden with food.

Her mouth gaped slightly and she looked at him in horror.

"Finn! That's two men's worth, at least!" She exclaimed. Finn waggled his eyebrows.

"Hush it, Toots. After last nights performance you can have whatever you want, trust me on this." Rose stamped down the urge to blush furiously and stammer like a twelve year old.

He pushed the plate into her hand and grinned. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Thank you, then." She studied the floor intensely. Finn snorted and Rose looked up to see him wink and grin.

"Just eat your food, Toots." He said with a laugh before sauntering off to mingle with his soldiers. Her jaw clenched and this time she resisted shouting 'tosser' after him and stomping off.

Rose settled for a dignified withdrawal instead, Archon at her heels.

She joined three of the men for their lunch, the others wandering around doing various jobs or trying to catch some shut-eye before the horrors of the night. The men, Gould, Tick and Grove, were nice – if blunt- and she'd learnt that they'd joined the army together.

She was content just to lean back against the rough masonry and listen to their conversation, chewing on her food and rubbing her dogs head.

Tick was poking a stick at the fire, chewing lazily on his rations, splayed out on his side and propping himself up with his elbow.

"Look," He turned his stick to poke Gould in the shoulder, "He's doing it again." Getting a slight grunt in acknowledgement from Gould, who was happily downing his beer, he twisted towards Grove.

"Hey, Grove," He called to the man perched atop boxes of ammunition, legs crossed and book in his hands. "What's this one about? C'mon, tell us the story." He egged, making Grove roll his eyes.

"Oh you wouldn't like it. Violence, swearing, drunken orgies—" He began,

She snickered slightly at the excited answer from Tick.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it has none of that. And some of the words are really long." He yawned.

Tick shrugged. "Hey, I get by fine with short ones. 'Fact, I'm thinking of a few right now." Cue pointed glare.

Gould made a soft 'ooh' sound, and she held in a snort. Not very ladylike.

"How can you read at a time like this? We could all be dead by morning." Gould asked, receiving a shrug from Grove.

"I promised Captain Finn I'd read a few chapters of the autobiography he's working on, and I don't break promises. Dead or not." He explained, flicking a page over.

_That _caught her attention. The brave, daring Captain Finn was writing a book. She made a mental note to ask him later. And by ask, she meant laugh at him. Loudly.

"Bah! Tick sniffed, "What a sycophant."

Grove rose an eyebrow, looking up from his-_Captain Finn's_ book. "Syco-what? You wanna do some more reading instead of making up words."

He and Gould chuckled to themselves and the conversation slowly dissolved, Tick grumbling to himself and his poking of the fire turning into viscous jabs.

She was saved from the quiet by Walter hollering her name, and waving her over with an exaggerated motion of his hand.

Rose waved back at him. She stood up and clicked her back, throwing the last bits of food to her collie. She made her excuses to the men and started towards Walter, drawing up next to him with a smile.

"Morning, Walter."

"Morning? Rose, it's after noon!" He laughed, lifting up a hand to ruffle her hair. He asked after her quietly as they made their way over to Major Swift, who was studying bits of paper on a table intensely. He looked up as they approached.

"Ah, good afternoon, Rose!" He said jauntily, muffled only slightly by the pipe he was chewing on.

"See," Walter murmured to her, "_afternoon._" She chose to ignore him.

"I've been considering Walter's proposition, as he so aptly put it yesterday." Swift told her with a smile, his ever present pipe in the corner of her mouth.

"And?" She asked hopefully. Both of the men present smirked at her.

"Do you need a formal letter of acceptance?" Swift teased, that damned twinkle back in his eyes. Rose smirked back at him.

"Unless you plan to go back on this, Major, I see no need of one." He laughed heartily.

"No, no, my dear. It is said and done. When the time is arrived call and the Swift brigade shall appear." He swept a bow with a flourish, making her laugh.

Walter clapped her on the shoulder with a great paw.

"When are we to leave, princess?" He asked her gruffly.

She chewed her lip, thinking. She should really stop doing that, it drove Logan to distraction… The thought of Logan flared something up inside her, and she stomped it down bitterly, making her decision.

"In a few weeks, Walter. If that is alright with you, Swift?" She announced, extracting herself from Walter's grip and taking a step back to look at the both of them. They were both shocked, true, but they both looked mildly pleased also, Walter leaning more towards proud – as per.

Swift was the first to voice his question.

"Might I ask the reason, Princess?"

Rose's hands clenched and unclenched at her side, and she looked the Major directly in the eyes.

"So many of your men have died, Swift, three the day before I arrived. But last night not one fell." He gaze faltered for a moment. "These men…they're _tired_. And you've been out here for so long…If I can help I will; I can fight better than most of these men, and I have the advantage of magic on my side. So I'll stay until I can't go on, and at that point I'll leave, and I'm taking you and your men with me."

That stunned them into silence for a moment. Swift barked a laugh whilst Walter looked on, peering at her curiously.

"Rose," He said, moving towards her, "Logan issued these orders, they cant just be disobeyed. We don't the brigade branded as traitors."

"Logan is the traitor here, Walter. Not these men. They'll die here if I don't help." She told him, making him nod.

"Then it's your decision. We'll stay until you deem it time to leave."

She turned to Swift, eyeing the suns path in the sky. Walter had made a fuss about it being afternoon, but it was barely just, plenty of hours left until sundown.

Her face split into a grin.

"So, what's the hunt like in Mourningwood?"


	5. Chapter 5

The animals on offer in Mouringwood were few and far between, it turned out. But Rose ventured out anyway, sending waves of electricity through the forest floor and tree trunks, and after a few hours she had returned with a passable collection of small furry and winged creatures. The battle that began when the sun set passed in mostly the same manner as the night before. The soldiers had taken notice of how fire annihilated the Hollow Men, and now torches by the dozen lit up the interior of the fort, ready to wave in the nearest un-dead face. Throughout all of that, no men were lost.

And thus she settled into a semi-relaxed routine; fight, increasingly flirtatious banter with Finn, eat, fight, and then sleep. Although she knew she was getting better decimating the Hollow Men, or at least she was getting better at predicting the way the monsters moved and fought, she could feel herself staring to slow. It was starting to get dangerous, any slip up in this situation cud have _disastrous_ results. Rose had been thinking over the past few hours, mentally evaluating how well everybody had fought through the last night. It was not encouraging.

Her mind made up, she wandered over to the centre of the fort - where Major Swift an Walter spent most of their non-fighting hours. She coughed to hide a grin when she realised that she had interrupted a story telling session. Boasting, really.

"Rose!" Walter greeted her, a smile on his whiskered face. "I was just telling the Major about the time I fought the pirates with your father." She quirked an eyebrow.

"The tale in Bloodstone that gets more extravagant every time I hear it?"

Walter pouted - not that he'd ever admit to it, but the old bear did that quite often - and grumbled. Swift burst into laughter.

"What do you want, fun thief?"

Rose had to school her face, trying damnedest not to laugh at her mentor's expression.

"We're leaving tomorrow - back towards the hobbe cave."

He frowned more seriously now, his bushy brows drawing together on his forehead.

"The plan was to go back to Bowerstone, Rose."

She nodded, "I know, Walter, but if I feel I need a break, well, you can see for yourself; the men are nearly dead on their feet. They need some recuperation time before they even _think _about launching themselves back into battle."

Swift, who had been silent throughout the whole exchange, spoke up, "I'm glad to see that you take the lives of your men seriously, Princess." He said, ignoring Rose's quick 'always', "But has this not progressed slowly enough?" Swift then asked, waving his pipe about. Walter leant back in his chair as they both waited for an answer.

"I - yes. I suppose that this _has _been slow going," She admitted, sensing the test behind the Majors words. "And I've sworn about it often enough. But I know the angers of rushing things: I have paid the price for it." Rose stared down a her clenched hands for a moment, unwanted thoughts of her brother and the choices she made in the throne room flitting through her mind. "Major, everything is progressing as it must. This respite is a _must_; I will not risk the lives of those men only to be a few weeks closer to the throne. The cave itself shouldn't prove a problem; Walter and I cleaned it out when we came through."

Swifty nodded his approval and Walter's eyes were glittering. "How far you've come, little Rosie." He whisper-mumbled, making her laugh, embarrassed and stomping down the urge to dance at his approval.

"Come now, Walter, stop that. We've still got another night of un-dead to wade through first." The men both grinned, snapping their hands to their heads.

"Aye-aye, Ma'am." They chorused, earning an eye-roll from Rose.

"Enough, I'll leave you two old women to your bragging." she sauntered off to the sound of Walter's and Swift's spluttering.

* * *

Finn caught her barely a few metres away, seemingly appearing out of nowhere at her side.

"So we're leaving then?" He asked her, rather eagerly.

"Aye. Tomorrow - after a short rest - we'll be off." He kept pace with her easily as her feet began on the familiar path towards the mortar. She didn't bother trying to explain to the man that it had been a private conversation. Rose didn't think he'd get it.

"So, where are we headed, Toots?"

"Brightwall, Captain." She told him.

"Ah, Brightwall," he mused, a hand coming up to rub a distractingly unshaven cheek and how would that feel against her neck and- _no. _"A good enough place for a holiday, I suppose. Can't quite remember what the women are like though..." He trailed off. Rose swatted him on the shoulder.

"You are _ridiculous_," Rose completely ignored where her own train of thought barreled off to, "And do you always make a habit of eavesdropping on on peoples conversations, Finn?" She laughed as he waggled his eyebrows.

"Only the important ones." He grinned at her. They began to discuss routes to the own as they climbed the stone steps to the parapet. He crossed his arms and leant against the wall, watching as Rose prepared the weapons for the onslaught that would occur that night. They were silent for a few minutes, Rose counting out an polishing shells. Finally, bored of the continued quiet, Finn piped up.

"Can I ask what happened he last time you rushed things, Toots?" His tone was light and he was visibly taken aback when Rose's head whipped up and she said 'no' sharply. She fought to control her breath, trying to lessen the stricken look that she knew was on her face.

"Sorry, Finn, but _no_." Her voice was softer. He nodded, unsure. His face wash awash with concern and surprise at the landmine he'd apparently stepped on.

"It's, it's still too, too-" He held his hands up. "It's okay, Toots. I'm sorry, _sorry_, for asking. I should have - well, it's not hard to see that you've had your fair share of shit thrown your way." He offered awkwardly, with an equally awkward smile. The tension abated slightly, leaving Rose looking apologetic.

She sighed, "Maybe one day, when we've sloughed through all of this," Rose waved her hands about, seeming to include the whole world in her statement, "And there's nothing else to worry about, hey?" She gave him her a small smile.

"No pressure, Toots." His usual grin was back in place, and the conversation turned to other avenues. It was flowing easily; Finn had left his place at the wall and had come to crouch next to where she was sat on the floor and was helping her maneuver one of the mortars.

"It's simple really," Rose was telling him, "If I tweak here and here," she tapped various points on the mortar, "It should allow for a much quicker firing rate." The captain frowned, peering at the various mechanisms she'd indicated.

"But you'd still need a fuse, and there wouldn't be time for what you have planned."

Rose grinned at him, flashing he teeth. She leant closer, and flicking her wrist conjured a small flame at the end of her index finger.

"That's clever, Toots," He praised, eyeing the flickering flame with awe. She could see the reflection of the fire dancing in his pretty blue eyes. She didn't bother trying to stop the thoughts of how attractive the captain was. They came frequently and alarmingly easily nowadays. "Probably cheating, though..." He half muttered under his breath. Rose twisted away for a second, reaching for a much smaller pile of shells, laid out far neater than the rest of the collection. The one she picked up had a different lustre to it, and it vibrated as she held it. She placed it in Finn's waiting outstretched hand, her grin spreading as his expression of awe grew.

"Have you _charged _this?" He exclaimed, turning the metal ball over in his hands. Her own shot out to hold his as the vibrations grew slightly more erratic, steadying them.

"Careful there, captain," She murmured, "Don't be setting it off now." Rose was aware of how close they were and of how little she cared and, really, where his lips as soft as they looked? Then she heard him mutter back.

"You're an amazing woman, Toots." He was leaning ever closer, his head tilting so their noses wouldn't bump. She smirked, throwing caution to the wind - it had been on her mind for too long now, there was no stopping this. Their lips collided as she closed the final distance. She wasn't going to let him claim the first move. Rose felt him smile back against his lips, probably realising what she was thinking, and one hand let go of the shell to grasp at her wrist, bringing her closer. She bit the captains lip and he opened his mouth willingly, immediately turning his attention to plundering her own. Her hand dropped from the electrified munition to grab a fistful of his uniform.

Eventually they both pulled back, breathes heavy and mingled. He was staring at her through dark, half-lidded eyes.

"It's good to know you weren't exaggerating." Rose mumbled against the man's lips. Finn laughed, low and quick. His head began to duck his head again when they heard footsteps starting on the stairs. He waggled his eyebrows as Rose pulled back rolling her eyes. He let go of both her wrist and the shell as she stood up, her having forgone her hold of his shirt at the sound of the ill-timed footsteps. Standing over the separate collection of similarly buzzing shells, she replaced the one she had taken and looked over to her companion. He was busying him self looking at the mortar, or he was attempting to.

Finally the interruption came into view; it was Jammy.

"Lunch is up!" He beamed, the bandages on his face wrinkling. He had soup stains on his doublet.

Rose 'hmm'd her assent, brushing past both him and the captain as she made her way to the stairs. Archon caught up with as she jumped he last few stairs. The dog barked and sniffed at her, his ears twitching.

"Don't look at me like that," She told him cheerfully, patting him solidly on the head, "I don't know what I'm doing either."

* * *

_AN:_

_I apologise profusely for the horrendously long gaps between updates._


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